Would You Ever
by SamCole
Summary: Dean reflects on his relationship with Sam over the years. Multi-chaptered. Warnings for underage sex, homosexual themes and swearing. R&R
1. Kiss Me

_**Author's Note: So, it's been a while since I've submitted stories and, well, it wouldn't be right if I didn't grace you with a chapter fic. I usually avoid chapter fics but this one seemed to pour out so easily that it surprised me. It helps that the chapters are pretty short, so I'll be updating them two at a time. I'll post warnings at the beginning of every chapter so as not to frighten the poor innocent souls who dare read me crack-like fictions.**_

_**Summary: Dean and Sam live on an emotional rollercoaster of violent and dizzying ups and down. Dean recalls every moment and reflects on his budding relationship starting when he and Sam first make love.**_

_**Warnings: Underage Sam is 16, Dean's 20. Also incest, boy on boy lovin' and some cursing.**_

_**Pairing: can you say Wincest? **_

_**Kiss Me**_

The first time you two sleep together he's just barely sixteen years old. His lips smashed against yours not even ten minutes after Dad left on a hunt he claimed he had to 'handle himself' and demanded you watched Sam. You're damn sure this isn't what he had in mind.

Even though he's only sixteen he's almost your height, he doesn't have to stretch up on his tip-toes just to deepen the kiss that you still have yet to return. His teeth are nipping your lips, suckling and licking, trying to gain some response from you. You're reeling. This is so wrong and you know it. When his tongue forces its way between your lips and teeth you snap back to earth and rip back sharply, wiping the taste of your brother from your lips as you growl out, "what the fuck Sam?"

Almost desperately he's telling you he loves you, needs you and he knows you need him too. And damnit if he isn't right. You want his lithe body, his long limbs and smooth chest that you've seen glistening with sweat and water after you two swam in the cheep motel's pool not even a week before. You wanted him then too. Wanted to jump his bones and cover his body with you and fill him with your very essence.

But he's Sammy. Your Sammy. Your baby brother. You can't-won't-do that to him.

But when he presses against you again, begging-_Dean please -_you know you can't deny him. It's always been your weakness. You've never been able to say no to Sam.

So you press your lips against his and he whimpers in response, causing all the blood in your body to head to a particular organ that resides south. You want to stop but you can't, not when his lips are on your neck and he's whispering the most sinful things into your ear, his breath tickling your jaw and making you shudder. He's telling you what he wants you to do to him and every word goes straight to your cock and it's suddenly very warm in the rom. To warm for clothes.

Out loud you wonder if he's ever been with another guy before.

"Not with anyone who matters," is his lust-filled response, his usually light voice a bit huskier with lust.

You growl in response, angry and jealous that someone had touched and pleased him before you. He shudders at your growl of possessiveness and you can't help but claim his lips once more, vigorously working to erase whatever memories of prior men he's had before you. Your stomach's knotted with envy and lust and he's whimpering and moaning and damnit if you don't nearly come undone every time he moans your name in needy, trembling voice.

When it's over and his naked body covers your clothes-less one you can feel it start to set in. The guilt. You've just slept with your little brother. The words incest, fag and pedophile are racing in your head and you feel bile in the back of your throat. Swallowing you swear silently that you'll never lust for him-let alone sleep with him-again.

He stirs in his sleep, his soft hair brushing over your chest, and you look down. His face is bathed in the moonlight that leaks through the half-closed blinds and casts a stunningly ghostly glow across his delicate features, accenting his wispy hair, smooth, slightly baby-fat padded cheeks, the crescent shape of his lips, his closed eyes and his peaceful expression as he slumbers. You drink the image in and know you'll always need him.

Just as he always needs you.


	2. Love Me

_**Author's Note: As promised, here's chapter dos to accompany chapter one. The gaps between the chapters will span from year to year to the first few, then from season to season. I'm trying. Really I am. And I'm incredibly sorry about the wait. ._.**_

_**Summary: Dean finds it harder and harder not to touch Sam in front of everyone as their relationship intensifies. **_

_**Warnings: brother on brother lovin', slight language, insecure Dean and Sam's only 17.**_

_**Pairings: still Dean/Sam**_

_**Love Me**_

You've been sleeping with your little brother for almost a year now and you're finding it harder and harder to keep your hands off him all the fucking time. You honestly just want to jump his bones twenty-three hours of the day and you don't give a damn about who sees.

But there has to be rules if you want this to last. Whatever this is. The constant eye-fucking, the jerking each other off whenever you two get twenty minutes alone, the rough make-out sessions and grinding all over each other while Dad goes to get you guys breakfast and you wait by the Impala, the sex that always happens when you two get the evening alone. Out of all the activities you two participate in those three words never leave your lips. They don't leave his either. There's something about those words, something that would change this from mindless sex to an actual relationship.

You're careful. You don't touch him when anyone's around, not even a brotherly hug, a comforting touch of the shoulder, a playful punch on the arm, or any other normal gestures. You don't stand to far away from him but you don't stand to close either. You stay relaxed, cool, confident, rate the passing by chicks half-heartedly with Sam, who never really partakes in the rating of busty blondes and tight-assed brunettes. You don't really notice how he hardly glances at them and simply nods just to shut you up. You're careful about what you say too. You don't make any sexual references about you and him, you don't say the word 'fag' or 'queer' anymore.

Honestly it's tiring. Trying to hide a relationship that's all kinds of intense behind closed doors in the night, frantic moans and sweaty bodies pressed against each other. Sometimes you wish he wasn't your brother so you could _just be with him_. You realize though, that if he wasn't your brother you wouldn't be in love with him.

Because you are in love with him.

Your just don't say it.

But then again he doesn't either.

Then there's the one night that changes everything. It's the eve of your twenty-first birthday and Dad's on a solo hunt. You don't mind though, a week alone with Sammy is a present he didn't even realize he was giving you. You're planning to make the most of your father's unknown gift and you do, the first thing you do when you hear the roar of the Impala fade into the night is fuck your little brother and he's all too eager to please you on your birthday. He seems to touch you just right and has you filling him up in record time. You two lay naked, cuddled together after sex while watching some sort of movie. It's a comedy about a group of waiters that makes you kind of nervous to eat at restaurants ever again, not that you eat at anything other than fast-food joints and low class diners anyway but still. Sam informs you the name of the movie is _Waiting…_ and you nod, not really caring but loving the way the corners of his lips brush against your chest when he speaks. He's half asleep when he murmurs your name. You look at him, letting out a low "hmmm?" in response. You glace down and see he's looking at you through his girlishly thick lashes and find your heart skipping a beat at the affection you see in his eyes.

"I love you." He says softly but not unsurely, he means those three words with all his heart and soul, you can see it in his hazel eyes.

Your heart all but stops and you pull him as close as you can, wishing that skin wasn't in your way, the only thing keeping the two of you from being one mass of collective love, two souls mated till death. "I love you too, Sammy," you whisper into his hair.

He smiles happily and you swear you could die then.

You've never been happier.

Because Sam loves you.


	3. Leave Me

_**Author's Note: I bring you, Chapter 3 in the **__**Would You Ever**__** series. It's not as good as I was hoping it would be but I'm trying. . **_

_**Summary: Dean is forced to think of a life without Sam and realizes just how much of his life revolves around his brother.**_

_**Warnings: still graphic yaoi going on, some angst and some swearing.**_

_**Leave Me**_

Sam and dad are fighting yet again. This has become a routine lately. Sam's hiding brochures for fancy Ivey League schools and Dad's pushing him into the hunt. You've found the brochures, you know what he's going to leave eventually but you refuse to think about a life without Sam.

"I want to get out of here! I want to have a normal life! I want a family that doesn't have to learn how to shoot a shotgun and hunt down witches, gods and mythical creatures by the time they're twelve!" Sam's screaming voice can be heard from the bathroom where you're currently hiding, staring at your reflection in the mirror and wishing they'd just shut up. You can hear dad reply, telling Sam that he's a Winchester, that this is a normal life for him and he's never going to escape it. You hear the sound of something breaking and they go back to screaming.

You're not paying attention anymore. You're focused on your reflection, studying the tired Man in the mirror, hoping he'll give you all the answers to your current problems. After a stare down and no answers you decide you should probably go face them. Wrapping a towel around your waste you exit the bathroom.

Dad brushes past you on his way to the door and growls at you to watch Sam as he storms out. You're pretty sure he's not going to do work on the case and probably just going out to get smashed but you agree to watch Sam anyway even though you'd love to just go out and drink with him. You make your way to the beds and flop down on the one that you and Sam have been sharing and stare mindlessly at the television. Sam's ranting and you're trying not to listen because you've heard it all before.

Every time it gets worse though. All he talks about now is leaving and damnit if you don't want to just shake him and scream at him. Demand what you've done wrong that would make him leave you.

Finally you snap. "Shut up!" You scream, stopping him mid-rant.

His eyes are wide with surprise when he looks at you. Then your eyes meet his and he becomes confused at the pain he sees in your own deep green eyes. He sits beside you and asks you what's wrong.

You tell him a alf-truth, tell him that you hate it when he fights with Dad. You explain to him that you two are the only family he has and watching you two fight is breaking your heart. You leave out the rest about how you can't stand the idea of him leaving you behind to go to some college, to get some degree, to meet some girl and fall in love, to get married and have two-point-five kids, a dog and a house surrounded by a white picket fence. You don't tell him that if he ever left he'd take your whole world with him

He frowns; his lips are on yours in an apology, one that you accept greatfully as you deepen the kiss.

You're pretty sure Dad will be gone for the rest of the night and it's been for too long since you two made love so you decide now is as good a time as ever. When you two make love that night Sam rides you slow and deep, as if sensing your need to be loved gently, to _feel _everything that is your Sam. When it's over, long after you've both came and sticky cum dries to your chests, you two remain in each other's arms. He's still straddling your hips and you're still buried to the hilt in him, his forehead resting against yours as you savor the pure love of the moment. You never want it to end. Sadness tinges through you're veins, ruining the peace of your moment with hm. You sigh, run your fingers through his soft hair and tell him that you two should probably get cleaned up in case Dad comes home. With a disgruntled noise he agrees.

You don't know that it's the last time things will be the same between you two.

You don't know that he's going to leave.

Not until he does.


	4. Come Back

_**Author's note: This is a relatively short chapter but seeing as I'm really lazy and I'm supposed to be enjoying a vacation but I do so love to hear everyone's comments so I give you fourth installment of my derp little fics. Enjoy!**_

_**Summary: Sam and Dean re-unite, but it doesn't exactly feel like it.**_

_**Pairing: mentions of Sam and Jess, fluffy Sam and Dean.**_

_**Warnings: none really for this chapter unless you count a little angst.**_

_**Come Back**_

After Sam left he took a huge part of you with him. You weren't sure you'd survive without him, you had to relearn everything. You no longer woke up in the mornings searching for Sam's dimpled smile to brighten your day, no longer anticipated the nights when your father would head out on his own. You forgot that you weren't supposed to order salads for Sam every time you went somewhere that served food. You didn't find comfort in Sam's scent anymore either, that musky yet sweet smell that was purely Sammy and brought a smile to your face no matter what.

All in all life was empty after Sam left. You didn't have any more joy, nothing to look forward to anymore. All you had was cheap motels, one night stands, booze and the hunt. You learned life with cold and bitterness, everything in shades of grey.

So when Sam came back into your life you felt shell-shocked. He had Jess now, he'd moved on, you'd adapted. Adapted to the loneliness, drowned your pain in the moans of easy women and the burn of liquor, soaked your hands in the blood of monsters and honestly you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore.

Then Jess died. You watched as Sam changed, became Hell-bent on finding the thing that killed his Jess, the same thing that killed your mom. You saw the way he became depressed, you could see his tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. You pretended not to, pretended that it didn't bother you.

Then the nightmares stated. You were always there to shake him from his slumber. You comforted him, first with gentle words, later with sweet embraces and caressing touches. You didn't talk about before but neither did he. You seemed resolved in the fact that you two were over but deep down you hoped it wasn't.

One night a particularly bad nightmare woke you from your slumber, his whimpers and screams drew you to his bed where you shook him awake. He clung to you tightly and cried, you soothed him, your hands slipping through his chocolate brown tresses. You hushed him, told him to go back to sleep. No, you wouldn't leave him. Yes, you would hold him.

Silently, with your brother held in your arms as he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep, you wondered why he came back.

You wondered when he'd leave you again.

You didn't have to wonder for long. During a hunt that involved the Demon that killed mom and some girl named Meg you two had it out only without the screaming.

He said he didn't want things to be the way they were before.

You fought back tears.

"Dean, when this is all over…you're gonna have to let me go my own way." He said softly, an apology in his eyes.

You stayed silent, didn't respond even though you wanted nothing more than to shake him and beg him to stay with you.

Because you were still hopelessly in love with him, you still desperately needed him and he didn't need you. Not anymore.


	5. Let Me Go

_**Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this posted! My computer crashed and wiped out all my files, so I have to start from scratch. Luckily I had this fic written down, so it was no big deal. Again, I am so sorry for the wait but here's chapter five!**_

_**Warnings: Same as the other chapters.**_

_**Disclaimer: not my characters, just my story idea. **_

_**Summary: Sam dies and Dean brought him back at the cost of his soul, will there relationship rekindle after all the years?**_

_**Let Me Go**_

When Sam died you instantaneously lost the will to live yourself, after all, a world without Sam was a world without purpose, a world without reason, and a world without love. Sam had been the reason for your existence the second dad placed him in your arms the night they brought him home. You didn't know that he would one day amount to so much but now that he's gone you can't think, you can't breathe, all you can do is scream and cry.

When you begin to calm down you know what you have to do, for it was the only thing you could do and for the price of your soul, you could care less about anything but bringing Sam back to life. You didn't care that you only had a year to live before you had to suffer endless torment in Hell. When you held his body, warm and full of life, to you everything was suddenly alright. Nothing else mattered but the way his chest rose and fell with the intake of air, the way his bright hazel eyes shined full of life when his eyes met yours, the way his calloused fingers brushed tears off of your cheek. Everything was okay again.

Weeks pass and you very rarely leave his side. Soon you can see the sorrow in his eyes because he's found out about the Deal, and he knows why you did it. To save him. Sorrow mixes with guilt in his eyes and you can't stand it, after all, it's not his fault you can't live in a world without Sam.

Your lips press against his one night, silencing him when he begins to scream at you about the Deal, about not wanting to be saved. In his eyes, you can see the clear question, why would you do this to him? You want to tell him you did it because you love him, because he's the air you breathe and your whole world.

You don't use words to convey these thoughts. Instead you pull him to you, savoring the way his lips are instantly responsive to yours, the way he presses closer to you, the way he tastes as his tongue glides over yours. Years have passed since the last time you two made love and everything is so familiar yet so different. He's a good few inches taller than you and some twenty-odd pounds heavier thanks to the coiling muscles that now lie beneath his honey-tanned skin.

When you finally get the offending articles of clothing off of him you observe how he has changed with time and remember the first time you made love to him. He was a lithe teen, all long limbs and thin, feminine beauty, his skin somewhere between tan and pale, unblemished and flawless.

Now his limbs are perfectly proportioned to the rest of his tanned body, which is now littered with faint scars, each one telling a story. He's developed muscles, wash-board abs and coiling biceps that flex when he fists his hands in the white sheets as you tease him mercilessly. Soon he's begging for you and even though years have passed since you two have been intimate, he still submits to you like he did back then.

When you do eventually take him, thrusting deep inside the warmth of his body you savor his moans, now husky with lust much like your own. His body seems to remember you as you two began mimicking a familiar rhythm from years ago. His tight ring of muscle milks you, his hips jut off the bed to meet your thrusts, to drive you deeper into the inviting warmth. His nails dig crescent-shaped marks into your flesh as you lead him over the edge, your name falling from his lips and after a few more thrusts you're right there with him. Your climax rips through you, makes you see fireworks and when you come down from your high you don't feel empty anymore.

You nuzzle your brother's neck, kiss him softly, and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. He holds you to his chest, slick with come and sweat, and tells you how much he loves you. You can hear tears in his voice. He's just gotten you back.

Eleven months later he's forced to let you go.


	6. Change

_**Author's Note: Hey there everyone! I just thought since I had a minute I'd upload a new chapter to my fic! Now, this is a bit different than I originally wrote it simply because SoulfulSam requested that I went a bit into the reasoning as to why Sam left and why he never mentioned it to Dean so I worked on it. Hope you all enjoy! Reviews are always encouraged!**_

_**Summary: Dean finds himself losing interest in Sam. Things are changing and words are said, can they ever be what they once were?**_

_**Warnings: Swearing, yaoi, etc**_

_**Pairings: Sam/Dean, Dean/Cas**_

_**Change**_

When you're freed from Hell all you want to do is forget. Forget the pain, forget what they did to you and forget what you did to them. You had to do it, or at least that's what you tell yourself when you feel like you're going to drown in your own guilt.

Sam holds you close, later in the confines of a room, and sobs on your shoulder, clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping him rooted to the ground. He doesn't know how you got out, doesn't know the pain you suffered, all he knows is that it was his fault, or that's what he thinks. You hold him close, hush him gently, and kiss away his tears. He's glad you're back and you are too, you missed him just as much as he missed you.

When you make love that night it breaks your heart. He's desperate and he cries, you swear you've never seen anything more pathetic in your life. You didn't think leaving him would hurt him this much, not when he walked away from you all those years ago.

You wipe away his tears and tell him you're never going to leave him again and at the time you mean it with every fiber of your being.

"I'm an angel of the Lord." The stunning brunette before you speaks blandly, without emotion. His bright blue eyes are locked on yours and for some reason you can't look away.

His name is Castiel and he saved you, pulled you from the pits of Hell. At first you're thankful, so thankful you don't even mind the hand-shaped mark he's left on you. You don't mind the fact that he reads your mind, or vanishes without warning only to pop in again randomly to help you out.

Time passes and you start to change, maybe it was Hell that causes this change. Maybe it was him. You aren't sure. What you do know is that you're starting to fall for the Angel. You start to become distance from Sammy, the sex becomes more and more spare until one night you come to the thought of fucking Cas, filling Sam up as a violent orgasm rips through you at the mental image.

The night you sleep with Cas is the night you stop sleeping with Sam. It's also the night the walls come crashing down.

"What's wrong with you, Dean! You used to love me!" You can hear the desperation in his voice; see it in his eyes when he looks at you.

"You left me Sam," you murmur, surprising yourself. You never thought you would talk abut that day, the day he left you without a goodbye and broke your heart. Probably because you were afraid he'd leave you again.

You're not afraid now.

He looks at you, a look of pain on his face. "I let because Dad found out Dean. He told me to leave the second he knew, told me to get the Hell away from you and never come back. He told me we were wrong, told me that if I knew what was good for me I'd take off. So I did, because I was afraid of him. Afraid of what he would do to me, afraid of what he would do to you. That's why I left without saying goodbye."

You give him a look. You wish you could feel something right then. Anything. Anger, pain, sorrow.

But all you feel is emptiness, coolness towards him that you had never felt before.

It was too late to save what you once had, too late to love him anymore.

You had changed.


End file.
